cold
by civillove
Summary: Caitlin is not sure where the shift happened between them, when his lost aching heart somehow found hers in the middle. But they did meet.


As much as Caitlin loves the winter, she has the hardest time during the season keeping warm.

On good days she likes to tease that it has everything to do with her last name being Snow, that obviously flakes in blustery gusts of wind have seeped into her veins permanently affecting her temperature. On miserable days she blames poor circulation, not enough warm scarves, wind seeping through her many layers and the cold, metal surfaces of basically everything in STAR labs.

She's always had trouble keeping warm, no matter how many layers she tries to bundle herself up in. She envies Barry instantly, whose warmth seeps through every pore of his skin. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he runs a few degrees higher than normal because of his molecules moving at rapid speeds.

No, Barry is warm just because he simply _is_.

It lies in those soft, concerned smiles he sometimes gives her, or his lips brushing along her hairline when no one's looking before he leaves to save the city from another meta-human. It's embedded in his bright green eyes, sometimes dark emerald or as light as pine trees in the sun. It's in his fingers curled protectively around her hip when she sleeps, or when he brushes a tear off her cheek, in the way he grabs her to spin her up in a hug or twist into her as she orgasms. It's in the heat of when he's angry at her for being reckless or gentle assurances that he's sorry. It's in the way he puts everyone before himself, in the sheepish way he blushes, in small smirks and private looks.

She's _never_ known a warmth like that before. Not even Ronnie.

Caitlin is not sure where the shift happened between them, when his lost aching heart somehow found hers in the middle.

But they did meet.

In a snow drift, in a whirling of snowflakes outside STAR labs. She loses a stack of papers, documents on their latest meta-human, pictures of Ronnie, F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. research. She's too slow to catch them all—but he isn't, his light laughter swept up in the wind, making her giggle and a smile pull at the ends of her mouth.

Barry hands them back to her in a rush, their fingers brushing, bodies almost pressed together. He looks down at her, his eyes tracing over her pink lips, leaning forward. Their noses brush but he doesn't go further than that—allows _her_ to press up on her toes and join their lips.

He wraps his arms around her when she shivers, the bitter cold seeping through her scarf and heavy coat.

It only goes in several different directions from there.

They don't tell anyone that they're figuring things out. That it's complicated. That she's not exactly sure who they are or what they're doing. But Caitlin is assured in how he touches her, in the fleeting looks he gives when he _has_ to leave, in kisses pressed to her skin.

She doesn't care that no one knows (even though she's sure everyone has picked up on it, especially Iris and Cisco), they don't have to fit themselves into a mold. The point is they work, they balance one another out, and that is enough for the both of them.

Now that she has him, Caitlin has realized something about warmth—it's fleeting, it comes and goes in brief embraces and chaste kisses. Cold can stay with you a lot longer, live in shudders and puffed oxygen that looks like cigarette smoke.

It's one of the coldest days of the year and she wants nothing more than to go home and drag Barry into bed, put crime fighting off for another day. But a meta-human that can turn into water has different ideas. They've been trying to catch her for two days; wanted by the police for murder, because she drowns people from the inside out.

She shivers as she looks at crime scene photos, of bodies cold and pale, surrounded by water puddles even though there's no source for the water in sight. Barry places a hand on her arm, rubs gently as he sets coffee down in front of her.

She smiles up at him. "Thank you."

"Can't have you turn into an icicle on my watch, Dr. Snow." He winks fondly, Cisco and Dr. Wells in another part of the lab trying to manipulate the freeze gun to its lowest setting. If they can stop the manipulation of the meta-human's molecules just long enough so she can't turn into a liquid state, they can hold her in the particle accelerator.

At least that's the theory.

"These poor people," She says softly, setting the photos aside. She picks up the mug and lets the warm ceramic heat her hands. "I almost drowned, when I was younger."

Barry sits on the edge of the desk, his body close enough that she can feel the heat of his skin coming off in waves. He tilts his head curiously, but says nothing, silently urging her to continue.

"I was seven and at this cabin with my family. We used to go every summer, I of course had to be the first one out there in the water." Caitlin smiles a little, she can feel his fond eyes on her, tracing the lines of her face. "Had to check the temperature and its floating capabilities, obviously."

Barry laughs softly. "Of course, ever the scientist."

Her smile fades a little, shaking her head. "I was out for maybe ten minutes before a boat sped by, caught me in its current. I was—I was pulled under the water and I couldn't figure out which way was up." Caitlin swallows, looks down into her mug of coffee like it's somehow far more interesting than her story.  
"I panicked, my legs were tired. It was…so dark under the water, cold the farther you went down. If my father hadn't been watching me from the deck of the cabin and dove in after me—"

The taller moves to kneel in front of her, his gentle hand on her leg, thumb rubbing along the inside of her thigh. He catches her gaze and gives her a soft smile, trying to pull her out of that dark, cold place with his gentle touches and smile alone. "Sounds like your dad could give me a run for my money in reaction time."

She laughs; the sound feeling a lot like letting go. Her chest doesn't feel as tight. "Yeah, he was a good man."

Barry doesn't comment on the past tense but instead squeezes her leg and stands. "So you're saying…I should bring floaties if we ever decide to go swimming together." He teases, zooming out of her reach as she raises her hand to playfully smack his side.

Papers fly everywhere and she stands, setting her coffee down. "Not fair, Mr. Allen."

"If I let you hit me as often as you wanted to I'd have bruises everywhere."  
She grins over her shoulder as she crouches to pick papers up. "You heal fast, don't you?"

She doesn't mention that she's almost drowned more than once, the last much more recently. She doesn't mention that it's metaphoric but somehow far worse than that literal day in the lake. How her emotions and loneliness and coldness almost swallowed her whole, punctured holes in her lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

She doesn't mention that Barry saved her.

He moves towards her but she's not sure for what, Cisco pops his head through the door and states that they're ready for him. She glances at Barry, stopped in his tracks, his hands stuffing into the pockets of his black jeans. He gives her a smile; almost caught, the idea making a flush pink blotch her cheeks.

"You know Cisco totally knows about us, right?" She smirks.

Barry opens and closes his mouth but makes a little noncommittal noise.  
It's not that they have anything they should want to hide, really, but she appreciates the thrill of almost having Barry all to herself. Barry raises his hand and brushes his thumb across her cheekbone, like he's trying to paint the line of pink with the pad of his finger before disappearing in another rush of air.

They have a plan, have an idea about where this meta-human is going to be, Barry running in a flash of yellow to stop her before she hurts someone else.

But they've made a tiny error.

Because _this_ meta-human is observant. She watches them from innocent puddles of rain, to water cascading down a window, to melting snow. She knows that the Flash isn't just about speed and proximity, that he's more than his grand gestures of saving people and snide remarks behind a red mask. He has heart, he cares. And because of that he can be broken, he has soft vulnerable spots that can be poked and prodded.

So as Barry runs to the opposite part of the city, the meta-human waits. The moment Caitlin leaves to retrieve a sweater from her car she realizes her mistake. She steps outside in the frigid cold and a wave of water hits into her hard enough that she lands on the pavement.

Her scream is swallowed by the sound of rushing water, drenching her from head to toe. She squirms on the ground, tries to get away, can feel the vice like grip of liquid trying to force her movements into her turning over, to open her mouth. She gasps as water presses pass her lips, starts to choke her—

it's cold and it's dark all over again.

In her short amount of time working with Barry, Caitlin considers that this might be the one instance where he doesn't get to her in time. But just when the meta-human pulls back, intends on going in for the kill (quite literally) she feels that familiar gust of air that usually messes up her hair.

"Caitlin!" Barry's voice is panicked, even though she can hardly hear it. Her body is trembling madly in the cold as she sits soaked on the pavement.

Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion even though the logical part of her brain knows it can't be. Barry fires the freeze gun towards the wave of water moving to envelope her once again. She hears a scream that's not her own as the meta-human freezes, turns to ice on the spot. She's only partly aware of what happens next, Cisco is running outside and Barry is picking her up in his arms.

Her teeth are chattering so bad that she can't even speak, Dr. Wells trying to tell him what to do as he gets her inside.

"I need you to get heated blankets, warm saline and a change of clothes." Barry seems frozen on the spot, staring at her, and she wants to ironically comment that she's the one freezing to death. Not him. His mask is now resting against the back of his shoulders like a hood. His hands are on her shoulders, eyes assessing her. " _Now_ Mr. Allen." He snaps.

That seems to yank him out his stupor and he's gone and back in a moment's notice. He works on toweling her dry before peeling her wet clothes off, not even hesitating like he probably should. Dr. Wells does not even seem surprised but averts his gaze to give them a little privacy. As observant as Caitlin is, she hadn't considered Dr. Wells knew about them. Then again, if this isn't a red blinking light of obviousness she's not sure what is.

Barry quickly dresses her in STAR labs sweatpants and his own sweatshirt, tugging it over her form and rubbing her arms to try and keep friction present. Caitlin tries to help, picks the warm saline up with shaking fingers and lets it warm her numb hands. She shouldn't need an IV drip, she feels warmer already, the life-like tingling sensation working its way back into her limbs.

Minutes feel like hours. Dr. Wells is eventually satisfied that she's not going to dip into hypothermia after two heated blankets are wrapped around her and slowly wheels off to help Cisco with their latest meta-human before she melts.

Caitlin looks up at Barry, trying to smile at him but it feels warped on her face, her lips tinged blue. "I'm o-okay." She manages and he shakes his head.  
Still in his Flash suit he cups the side of her head, his thumb running along her cheekbone, his long limbs standing in front of her as she trembles under a mountain of blankets.

"You're still shaking." He says, voice hushed. He's not pleased; with that or himself she's not sure.

"My meta-human n-name can be h-human p-p-opcicle." She teases, trying to get him to smile. The corners of his lips twitch but she doesn't get much else. He strokes her wet hair, curling it behind her ear. "Or m-maybe something to do with Frost since I nearly f-froze to death." She scrunches her nose. "Don't tell Cisco that one."

Barry does laugh then, at her adorable nature if nothing else. He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose, his hands working a smooth up and down rhythm along her arms before dipping to her back and then back again. "That's not funny."

She giggles. "It's a _little_ funny."

He watches her for a moment, her shaking eventually subsiding the longer she stays under the blankets, Barry's consistent hands creating friction against her skin. Her eyes close, his warmth breath speckling her face as he leans in and steals a kiss, the heat of it traveling all the way down her spine. Barry lingers for a few moments, nipping at her lower lip a few times before letting his lips rest against her forehead.

"That was too close." He says quietly. If he wouldn't have been standing so close she's sure she wouldn't have heard him.

She breathes in slow and deep, picks up hints of his skin and his cologne mixing with the familiar leather of his suit. "I thought getting here in the nick of time was part of a hero's resume." Caitlin pulls back a fraction and looks up at him, giving him a smile that's reserved just for him. "You can't protect me from everything."

Barry steels himself, a crooked grin masking how he really feels, but she can sense the determination in his voice. "And you can't stop me from trying."

She rolls her eyes playfully, her arm moving out from under the blankets so she can touch his side. Caitlin makes a noise of distaste at the hard leather of his suit and Barry glances down at himself before he smirks, zipping out and back into her embrace in the clothes he showed up to STAR labs in. She smiles, tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt.

"You're coming home with me tonight." She decides and his eyebrows perk, amused.

"Oh am I?"

Caitlin nods. "Instead of finding all the blankets in my house and piling them up on my bed I'm just going to use you as my own personal space heater."

Barry laughs, warm and bright before he leans down and pulls her into a hug.

000

She honestly thought that as cold as she felt this afternoon that lying naked in bed, skin glistening with sweat, her lungs trying to catch up to her panting, trying to grasp oxygen as fast as they can wouldn't be the best idea. Barry is pressing tentative, lazy kisses into her skin, her hair mapped out like a halo around her head, his fingers tracing dips and grooves of her skin.

But she's not cold.

"Had you shaking for a completely different reason." Barry comments idly, pulling back to look at her.

She nearly snorts, running her hand through his messy locks. "I can't believe you just said that with a straight face." She's quick to hit him with one of the pillows on the bed, Barry tackling her before she can deliver another blow.

She giggles as he tickles her, tugging her close in bed so that their bodies line up mismatched. She can feel his ribs digging into her sternum as he breathes, his hand moving to cup the side of her face, fingers tucking locks of hair behind her ears.

It's starting to rain, she can hear the frozen pellets hit the top of the roof and windows.

Caitlin's hand finds Barry's, entwining their fingers before she kisses each of his knuckles. He pulls her even closer, like that's possible and breathes in the scent of her hair, her skin, drinks in her tiny sighs and small sounds.

He smiles down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she hides her face in his neck, his pulse beating against the tip of her nose. He whispers things into her hair but she's not sure what he's saying, isn't sure it matters anyways.

She's caught between reality and dreams as he pulls covers up and over her shoulders, his hand moving in pressured circles along her back.

She is warm.

000


End file.
